


Where Rainbows End

by seekrest



Category: Love Rosie (2014), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: (it's a love rosie au what do you expect), (when I say slow I mean SLOW), Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Gen, He's trying to be at least, Inspired by Love Rosie, Missed Connections, Peter Parker is a Good Dad, Slow Burn, but they figure it out eventually, canon nudged so far left it doesn't even exist, its just me and my whims now, the right person at the wrong time is still the wrong person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28571517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/pseuds/seekrest
Summary: “He’s got hiccups, poor thing,” the nurse says, exhausted and worn out in a way Peter can’t help but feel is familiar even if everything about this situation is anything but.“Yeah,” Peter says, the shock of who he’s staring at still settling his system as he looks on in awe.“Do you want to hold him?” She asks, Peter nodding wordlessly as she picks his son up and gently places him in his arms - the whole world falling away as he looks at his tiny face.“Hi. I’m your dad.”
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Flash Thompson, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 61
Kudos: 120





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> This fic is really special to me because it’s 1) my 200th fic, a milestone in and of itself and 2) my birthday! Blondsak started the trend of writing reverse birthday fics and she’s right: it’s my birthday and I can give you all a fic if I want to. 
> 
> A special thanks to blondsak who listened to me talk about this for years and still patiently helped iron out all the plot details anyway. 
> 
> I’m really glad that I get to be a part of a really great fandom— one that for me is centered on my favorite sticky boi.
> 
> Hope you enjoy the journey that he goes on in this one :)

“Peter, you need to slow down.”

He tries to reply but it only gets muffled by the pop tart in his mouth, Ned looking at him with a mix of amusement and exasperation as he says, “Dude. Seriously. Relax.”

Peter swallows down the pop tart, wincing slightly from the globby, strawberry flavored lump currently traveling down his esophagus before he says, “Can’t. I’m late for a meeting with Otto and if I’m late again—“

“He’ll be disappointed in you and then proceed to do absolutely nothing about it because you’re a great lab tech,” Ned says nonchalantly, Peter frowning as Ned turns his attention back to his laptop. “How you managed to find the most relaxed biotech lab in the city proves to be that Parker Luck is something you made up.”

“Dude, it’s like you don’t even _know_ me,” Peter scoffs, even as he grins as the playful eye roll Ned gives. “I’ll have you know that _Tony’s_ lab would actually be the more relaxed one.”

“What a nightmare to have every opportunity available to you,” Ned deadpans, only to grin when he looks back at Peter as Peter uses his web shooter to grab his mask from the couch. “Seriously, man. Don’t stress. Otto hasn’t fired you yet.”

Ned makes a face, titling his head to the side as his expression transforms into one of contemplation before he says, “Then again, you never know.”

“Thanks, Ned. Love the vote of confidence,” Peter says, giving him a thumbs up as Ned just laughs.

“See you at eight for the Beast Slayer tournament?”

“Hell yeah,” Peter says, shoving his mask on before doing the same handshake they’ve done since they met freshman year at Midtown, walking backwards to the window as he says, “You want Pete’s tonight?”

“Nah, I'm thinking dumplings,” Ned says as Peter opens the window, “can’t risk being disappointed by two Pete’s tonight.”

“First of all, ouch,” Peter says with a laugh, Ned grinning at him as Peter continues, “second of all, Pete’s isn’t _that_ bad.”

“Dumplings or bust,” Ned calls out, Peter shaking his head and laughing as he uses his senses to gauge if anyone’s watching before slipping out the window, sending off a web and launching himself into the city.

He’s been doing this for years and it still doesn’t get old, the feel of the wind rushing past him and the way his stomach still dropped as he did a backflip in midair— falling hard and fast towards the city before sending off a web just in time.

Spider-Man may have been the one thing in his life that had given him the most trouble, but it was also the one thing in his life he couldn’t ever imagine living without— the primary focus of his life, to the chagrin of nearly anyone else in it. 

It isn’t as if Peter didn’t realize he had fucked up priorities— growing up with May Parker would have made that impossible. But despite everything, things felt easy, simple - like everything was exactly as it should be. 

“Hello Peter, you have several missed calls and three texts from Felicia Hardy. Would you like for me to read them to you?

Peter makes a face, scoffing a little as he swings and says, “ _Really_? Wow, what’d she say?”

“The first says, ‘Hey I’m in the city and I need to talk to you about something.’ Followed by another immediately following that says, ‘It’s serious. I don't expect you to understand’. Her final message was sent an hour afterwards stating simply, ‘Call me,’” Karen promptly replies.

“Huh,” Peter says to himself with a laugh, shaking his head as Karen asks, “Would you like for me to send her a message back?” 

“Um, maybe after my meeting with Otto. Last time Felicia saw me she tried to blow me up. Sort of,” Peter says with a wince, wondering just what could’ve motivated Felicia to get back to him after months of radio silence. Black Cat had been a thorn in his side throughout most of college only for the woman underneath it to get just as much underneath his skin-- their romance being just as quick and as unpredictable as Felicia’s targets for her crimes were. 

Despite what Ned seemed to believe about Otto’s kindness, Peter didn’t really want to put it to the test today with Felicia-- not when the chances of them fighting or fucking when they saw each other seemed just as likely.

Peter sighed, doing a flip to take his mind off how they left things off and focus more on the present as he made his way to work. 

His love life could be better sure and if it wasn’t for radioactive digestive system to go with his radioactive spider-inspired powers-- his habit of late nights patrolling until he couldn’t open his eyes, eating shitty junk food when he remembered to eat at all and being less than reliable to show to anything on time - work included - could’ve made Peter feel like a failure. But it didn’t. If anything, there was a rhythm to it that made sense-- chaos in a way that he’s grown accustomed to and makes him feel as if maybe his life wasn’t a complete train wreck. 

A train wreck couldn’t be a train wreck if he saw it coming right?

“Hey spidey!” He hears a voice call out as he swings through the street, doing a little wave to whoever it was and swinging forward-- smiling underneath the mask as the light spilled out over the skyline.

Peter laughed as he swung once more, letting his thoughts fall away as he focused less on the mess that was his life and more on the possibilities in front of him.

He actually _got_ a job after graduating, even if his plans for grad school were put on hold till he got his feet wet with Otto. It was too good of a gig to pass up, much to the chagrin of Tony for choosing a small low-level lab rather than the might and power of SI. But the work suited Peter, he thought - changing his direction as he made his way to the little lab that always smelled of Chinese food.

Another thing that Peter wasn’t going to complain about, considering the pop tart he’d had for breakfast was already wearing off. 

Peter’s mind is filled with thoughts of pop tarts, fried rice and chicken chow mein as we swings towards Octavius Lab’s, a smile under his mask and a lightness in his chest at waking up once again for another beautiful day. 

* * *

“You eat like an _animal_ ,” Michelle says with mild disgust, nose wrinkling in the same cute way it always does when he does something he probably shouldn’t. Peter has the decency not to laugh with his mouth full, but only just barely - pointing a chopstick at her and winking.

“You say that every time and yet, _you’re_ the one who keeps meeting up with me,” Peter says, biting back another laugh when Peter expertly uses his chopsticks to slurp up another noodle.

“You’re disgusting.”

“You love me,” Peter says with a grin, Michelle playfully rolling her eyes before feigning a sigh.

“Tragically, I do.”

“And now you’re stuck with me,” Peter says, nudging her foot underneath the table that they’re at. “You’re the one who turned down joining the Peace Corps with Gwen or going on a gap year with Harry.” 

“Not all of us are _Gwen Stacy_ or can afford to live on the wave of generational wealth. Speaking of drains on society, how _is_ Tony doing?”

“Ha ha,” Peter says with a smirk, Michelle looking pleased with herself as she pops a dumpling into her mouth. “You know, I think you’d two would really like each other if you actually gave him a chance.”

“Maybe,” Michelle admits, shrugging before leaning forward on the table that they’re at, “and maybe _you_ will finally get your life together enough to show up to our long-standing lunch date on time.”

Peter rolls his eyes at that, Michelle’s laughter sparkling off his insides as he smiles at her. There’s a part of him that regrets that he hadn’t become better friends with her until after they’d graduated from Midtown, finding themselves sitting right next to each other in the same gen ed government class the first day of their freshman year of ESU.

Then again Peter reasons as Michelle smiles at him, he wouldn’t have really appreciated the person that Michelle was -- a specific kind of bonding that came from living through four years of the supposed best years of your life that simultaneously felt like forever and like no time at all.

Now, almost six months past graduation and a chill sweeping out over the city, Peter was glad that life worked out for the two of them to be in the city at the same time.

Peter knows that if life was different, that it wouldn’t be the case. Michelle’s life plan had altered considerably from what it had been when she was in high school, only really getting the details as they got closer in college-- surprise that of all the things Michelle had decided to study that she’d chosen nursing. 

It made sense in a way, her dad passing away from a drawn out, painful kind of cancer that had drained any of the savings that their family had put away for her education. When he passed away during their senior year of Midtown, Michelle had been even more of a ghost-- secluding herself and working from home in a way that was only acceptable at the time because of her status as valedictorian.

If Peter was honest, he would’ve thought that Michelle would’ve gone on and become a doctor-- only to be rightfully shamed and put in his place at his assumption that nursing was somehow any less of a fulfilling, commendable vocation. 

The fact that she’d teased him saying that med school was the goal eventually - after she paid off the student loan debt she accumulated even from going to ESU and had enough of her own savings to pay for some of it - was a perfect representation of their friendship to begin with. 

A friendship it seemed from the gleam in Michelle’s eye, she was just as glad to be a part of as Peter is. 

“C’mon, MJ, being late is kind of my brand now. And you know Ned was just talking about--”

Peter freezes, his muscles tensing and an itch in the back of his mind of imminent danger. It’s a look that Michelle immediately recognizes, back straightening and the same cautious expression on her face that she always gets ever since she revealed she knew his secret during their freshman year at ESU as she asks, “What is it? Do you need to go?”

Peter can feel danger encroaching all around him but can’t figure out just where it is or if it’s even to him specifically, stomach twisting itself into knots not from the chow mein half-digested in his stomach but from the impending sense that there’s some trouble on the horizon.

Only for that trouble to make itself horrifyingly known when a scream erupts from inside the restaurant, both he and Michelle turning their heads to where the counter is. 

Peter’s eyes widen and his mouth falls open when he sees Mr. Wan disappear right in front of his eyes, the lady who was paying for her food screaming in terror only for Peter to feel like the wind’s taken out of him when he sees two guys in the back also disappear.

It’s as if they’re turning into dust, Peter looking back at Michelle and seeing the sheer terror in her eyes-- only for the screams from outside to turn deafening. 

“We need to go,” Peter says, reaching for Michelle’s hand who follows him without complaint, holding on tight as they venture out of the restaurant and into chaos. 

People are running about and screaming, Peter hearing it all in high-definition only to look up and hear the sounds of a helicopter -- a terror he’d been too young to live through creeping up all around him as it flails aimlessly around the sky, heading straight for a building.

“MJ, I gotta--”

“Go,” she says, Peter gripping her hand tight-- everything within him wanting to make sure she’s safe before he flings himself off into the unknown. 

“I’ll get to May. _Go_ ,” she says with a sense of certainty that grounds him, nodding as he pulls her into a hug before quickly letting go-- the screams of the people around him serving as a lightning rod as he rushes back to the roof. 

There’s too much chaos for anyone to notice that he’s crawling up a brick wall, knowing that sneaking through the back fire escape would take entirely too long. Years and years of practice get him up the roof and into the suit in minutes, launching himself into the air as he swings towards the helicopter that’s now careening out of the air.

“Karen, what’s happening?”

“I am not sure, Peter. There are reports from around the world of missing persons but there is very limited data on a point of origin or the cause.”

“Got it,” Peter says under his breath, putting his focus on the ‘what’ that’s front of him rather than ‘why’. Guilt runs through him of leaving Michelle alone to fend for herself only for him to chase that away as soon as he secures the helicopter only seconds before it crashes into a building-- finding it empty and glancing out over the rest of the city.

It’s chaos, unlike anything Peter’s even seen before-- mind racing and stomach churning as he tries to figure out just what the hell he’s supposed to do next. Only for relief to flood through him when he sees a familiar face flash across his screen with the contact information of someone who’d spent half a lifetime preparing just for this.

“Tony?” He asks as Karen puts the call through, hearing the unmistakable sigh of relief when Tony says on the other end, “ _Pete_. Kid, where--”

“Do you know what’s going on?” Peter asks, diving down and saving a child that’s crying in the middle of the street-- only seconds away from getting hit by a car. The car is empty and the child is crying for a dad that Peter can already guess is gone, depositing them to the side of the road before another scream calls his attention some construction a few blocks away, the scaffolding swaying perilously close to another building.

“Shit,” Peter says, gently setting the kid down and pointing at a person on the street looking dumbfounded. “Find their parents!” 

He launches himself into the air and to trouble as Tony says, “No idea. There’s-- Pete, it’s happening everywhere. Not just here.”

“Where is everyone?” Peter asks as he launches himself into the air once more, swinging as hard and as fast as he can to get to the scaffolding before it falls on anyone and wishing that he’d taken up Tony on his repeated offers throughout the years to join the Avengers.

If he had, maybe he’d have a better clue of what was going on. Then again, Peter thinks from the frazzled sound Tony makes on the other end of the phone, Tony sounded uncharacteristically unsure.

“Steve’s in South America with Sam, Nat and Clint aren’t answering. I don’t know, I gotta--”

Peter hears some shuffling on the other end, Tony’s panicked breathing doing nothing to calm him down as Peter tries to figure out what to tackle next. Karen’s immediately providing him scenarios on the HUD display of his mask but it’s his own senses that are working against him, screams and cries from all over the city.

“Pep? Pepper!?” Tony calls out, Peter’s stomach dropping as he glances to the Tower in horror.

“Tony…”

“Pepper!” Tony calls out again, sounding more frazzled and more terrified than Peter thinks he’s ever heard him as he secures the scaffolding. 

Tony’s screams start to echo in the background, terror gripping Peter as he ends the call -- if only to try and focus on the horrors that are surrounding him than the possibility of the horror of an empty Tower. 

Peter can feel it gripping his chest like a vise grip, the possibility that Pepper might be gone signaling a fear that May would be too-- cursing the fact that he left Michelle by herself once again only to take a shaky breath, closing his eyes and launching himself back into the chaos. 

* * *

It’s long past sunset when Peter finally makes his way back to his apartment, dread pooling in his stomach at the unanswered calls and texts that he’s sent to Ned. 

Pepper’s gone, just as Peter feared-- only to feel guilt and relief when he finally heard from Michelle that May was safe. 

Hours later and there was still no rhyme or reason to what happened, the last thing Peter heard from Tony being a cryptic message about a wizard and an alien that Peter barely had enough wherewithal to grab before Tony flew off. 

In his younger days, Peter would’ve gone right with him without a thought-- but the guilt of leaving Michelle behind earlier ate him up inside, just as the terror of wondering why Ned hadn’t responded to his texts compelled him to go home.

Peter slides open the window and jumps in, chest heaving as he says, “Ned?”

The apartment is silent, Peter holding back a sob as he walks across the living room-- breath hitching when he sees Ned’s laptop open in the same place that he’d left him, remembering that Ned was working from home since his office was being renovated. Peter’s heart is pounding in his ears, hoping that maybe Ned just didn’t have service or that he was stuck somewhere in the city and trying to get home as he moves towards the kitchen -- only for knees to buckle when he sees a splattered coffee cup spilled out in the middle of the linoleum floor. 

For as messy and as chaotic of a roommate Peter is, Ned was the exact opposite-- a carryover from being the oldest child of a mother who’d taught Peter how to scrub grout until it looked cleaner than the day it was put in. 

Ned would never leave a mess like this unless Ned wasn’t here anymore.

Peter sinks down to the floor, feeling lost and like the weight of everything that he’d seen and experienced today was finally being absorbed-- an ache in his chest that felt like it was seeping right down into his bones. 

He sits against the cupboard, back against it as he stares at the mess in the kitchen - wondering what Ned’s last moments would’ve been like even if the idea of _Ned_ and _last_ being on the same spectrum was impossible for Peter to truly grasp. 

Tears that he’s valiantly struggled against come without warning, choking back a sob as he puts a gloved hand in his face. 

Peter cries, another voice echoing amidst the chaos and the terror that the entire world is feeling - his sense of self desperately crawling back to the surface and the reminders that for what he’s lost, that so many had lost so much more.

He still had May. He still had MJ. He still had Tony. He’d been too distracted and too busy to ask about Rhodey or Happy or anyone else, too consumed with putting out fires literally and metaphorically and knowing from the cries outside that his work’s really just begun. 

Peter’s shoulder shakes as he sobs, putting a hand over his mouth as he squeezes his eyes tight-- thrown off by the sound of his phone going off. 

The phone lines were in chaos, to the point where the only person who could be calling would be someone with a Stark phone. Peter jumps up and runs to the living room where he left his buzzing phone, only to frown when it’s a number he doesn’t recognize.

He answers it anyway, swiping across the screen as he asks, “Hello?”

“Hi is there a Peter Parker at this number?”

“Can I ask who’s calling?,” Peter asks, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he checks the number once again, dazed and a little confused to who this could possibly be and who could be calling on a day like today.

Only for his mouth to go dry when he hears what she has to say.

“Hi I’m Katie Dunne and I’m a social worker at NY Presbyterian. I’m— I’m sorry, this isn’t how we normally do things but considering… everything, I’m calling to inform you that Felicia Hardy has listed you as the father on the birth certificate of a newborn. She's one of the... she's gone but was scheduled for discharge today. Can you come down to the hospital?”


	2. Chapter 2

Peter feels numb, even more than he already does. The social worker on the other end is still speaking but Peter can’t really hear it, mind still feeling from a hellish few hours and a revelation that would’ve taken the wind out of him on a good day, much less on this one. 

_Hey Pete, I’m in the city and I need to talk to you about something._

Felicia’s message runs through his mind, conflicting feelings of anger, hurt and exhaustion at just what the hell he was supposed to do now.

Felicia leaving the city without a trace made a lot more sense now, if she was pregnant. And Peter wasn’t stupid enough to think that this couldn’t be a distinct possibility, all things considered.

Careful wasn’t something he would’ve used to describe the two of them.

But she hadn’t said a word, something that nags at Peter— thinking back to the timing of when she sent her messages.

It was before everything had gone to shit, Felicia’s baby — _his kid_ — had been born before all of this. But a baby wasn’t made and born in a day, anger and hurt and a flood of other emotions Peter can’t really put a name to flowing through him at what this meant.

_Is this really my kid?_

_Of course it is. Felicia was a thief but not a liar._

_Well… she never lied to me._

_...until now_.

“Mr. Parker?”

Peter’s thrown out of his thoughts by the voice on the other end, wiping a hand over his face as he says, “Sorry, Ms. Dunne. Um, can you— can you repeat that last part?”

“As I said before, there’s a lot of paperwork to be completed and the state can’t just—“ Ms. Dunne’s cut off by someone else on the other line, their voice too far for even Peter’s super hearing to pick it up through the call until Ms. Dunne sighs and resumes, “The baby is here, Mr. Parker. You’re the only parent listed on the birth certificate that’s still with us and frankly, I’m not sure if we’re going to be doing anything by the books for a while.”

Peter’s mouth feels dry as he chews on his bottom lip, Ms. Dunne continuing, “Can you come as soon as possible?”

Peter has a thousand other things he has to do, several dozen people he still needs to personally check on and see what’s going on. He doesn’t know what Tony has planned, doesn’t know exactly where May and MJ are even if they’re safe and there’s still a quiet whisper of a doubt that Felicia may have lied.

But he answers with as much confidence that he can muster, a stronger urge to step up to a responsibility even if it even has the slightest chance of being real pushing him forward as he says, “I’m on my way.”

* * *

The whole city still feels like it’s in chaos. 

Peter’s seen first hand the problems that whatever happened has brought about, still reeling from the cries and the screams that he hears constantly-- taking longer to get to the hospital because of it. 

Part of it was that Peter just couldn’t tear himself away from someone who was in need, not when they were out there calling for him specifically. The other was a dread of wondering how the hell he was supposed to believe that what he was swinging towards was true, not when his mind kept running in circles over and over again. 

He’s able to text May and let her know that he’s okay, thankful now that Tony’s insistence on linking their cell phones and the suit with Stark satellites as he goes back and forth. He doesn’t tell her where he’s going, just an affirmation that he’s still safe and alive-- relieved when he finally lands in an alleyway by the hospital to change, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and quickly changing. 

He gets a text back from May, letting him know that she’s safe as okay but that she was taking Michelle to the hospital-- Peter’s heart leaping into his throat to think that he’d been so focused on everyone else that he missed something, only to read the rest of the message and see that she’s going into work. 

It doesn't surprise Peter that Michelle has already thrown _herself_ into helping, clicking his phone off and slipping it into his pocket as he walks to the hospital’s entrance. 

There’s a low buzz in the back of his mind, Peter knowing that he should be more careful about his identity but finding that he can’t really care-- not when the whole world feels like it’s on fire and his insides are twisting up so much into knots of what he’s walking into. 

The hospital is in just as much, if not more, disarray than the city is-- doctors and nurses running about as Peter walks in, stomach churning in anxiety at the kind of things that Michelle must be seeing now, thinking that May will be just as eager to head to FEAST and help however she can.

Peter makes his way through the chaos to try and find someone at the service desk, only for it to be empty. He glances around the hospital directory, taking the initiative to ride the elevator up to the maternal and delivery ward. 

Once he arrives, he’s thrown back by the amount of chaos and screams-- the thought occurring to Peter belatedly that if people disappeared everywhere else, they had certainly disappeared here. 

Peter feels like he wants to vomit at the thought, intentionally blocking out the myriad of morbid thoughts that run through his mind as he walks forward-- seeing a nurse who looks exhausted as she leans against the wall.

“Excuse me, ma’am?”

“Yes?” She asks, tiredly looking up at Peter as he clears his throat.

“I uh, I got a call from a Ms. Katie Dunne who said she was a social worker? She said something about--”

“Social workers are all over the place right now,” the nurse says with a wave, taking a deep breath before saying, “What do you need?”

“I-- I don’t know,” Peter says, the nurse frowning as he continues, “She said that I had-- that my kid was here?”

“What’s your kid’s name?”

“I don’t know,” Peter says, realizing now that he didn’t even know the gender or if the baby even had a name as the nurse frown deepens.

“You don’t know your kid’s name?”

“They’re a newborn, um-- I think they were born today,” Peter stammers, the realization clicking across the nurses’ face as she puts forth a grim expression on her face before motioning down the hall.

“Take that hallway all the way down then take the first right and then second left. Newborns are over that way. I’d take you but…” she says, trailing off as Peter shakes his head.

“It’s okay, thank you. Thank you,” Peter says, the nurse nodding once before seemingly psyching herself up to rush forward to whatever else is waiting for her. 

Peter follows her directions, every step feeling like lead as he makes his way forward. There’s a sense of urgency that emboldens him, grinding his teeth and flexing his hands as he makes his way towards the nursery.

He looks out over the window, eyes glazing as he looks out over the nursery-- his stomach still twisting itself into knots when he sees several spaces empty. 

It’s as if it hits Peter all over again, a hand against the window at just how awful and terrifying this thing that happened was as he gasps. 

There’s chaos still all around him but Peter’s eyes are focused still on the babies still there, some crying, some quiet— nurses coming and out and some of the little beds moved around, no doubt from parents who desperately ran to see their child only for said child to be gone.

It feels horribly unfair to Peter, in a way only an orphan could truly understand, of the reverse situation now— of babies who are crying for parents that are no longer there, of all the people missing with no clue to where they’d gone.

It’s dizzying for Peter, almost enough to overwhelm him when the buzzing in his ears clears just slightly to hear someone call for him. He returns and sees a woman in a rumpled suit jacket, brown hair and glasses and looking at him with a curious expression on her face.

“Can I help you?”

“Hi,” Peter says, clearing his throat again and leaning up from the glass, “I’m Peter, uh— Parker. I got a call from—“

“Mr. Parker,” the woman says, relief flowing across her face as her shoulders sag, “I’m Katie Dunne. I’m so glad you could make it.”

She motions down the hall, Peter following her hand for a moment before looking back at her.

“Can we speak in private?”

Peter nods silently, Ms. Dunne walking with purpose as Peter follows after— tacitly ignoring the sounds of the babies crying and the tightness he feels in his chest of a grief he’s all too familiar with.

* * *

“I don’t understand,” Peter says carefully, wringing his hands together as Ms. Dunne sighs, “you said I was listed as the father on the birth certificate.”

“You are,” Ms. Dunne replies patiently, “and Ms. Hardy had already signed the acknowledgement of paternity before she—“ she clears her throat, “before the _event_.”

 _Wonder if that’ll stick_ , Peter thinks to himself as she continues.

“But normally this is all done through the court system, or at least with a bit of formality.”

Ms. Dunne sighs again, looking just as exhausted Peter feels as she says, “Things _should_ be relatively easier if you both sign but with Ms. Hardy no longer here and with the courts being wherever the hell they are now…”

Ms. Dunne sighs, taking off her glasses and punching the bridge of her nose, Peter seeing the cracks of a woman desperately trying to do her job in a world where her job didn’t make sense anymore as she brings her hand down.

“I’ll do whatever I can, Mr. Parker, so that you can take your son home. In the meantime—“

“My son?” Peter asks as he sharply inhales, Ms. Dunne looking up at him in surprise.

“Your—“ she pauses, tilting her head slowly, “Mr. Parker, you _were_ aware of Ms. Hardy’s pregnancy correct?”

Peter’s never been good at lying - secret identity included - and is immediately reminded that for as likely as it is that Felicia was telling the truth, there’s just as much of— if not more— of a possibility that she had been lying from the start.

Echoes of rationality blare at him in the back of his mind, a recognition that he _doesn’t_ know if this baby is actually his and the images of May, Tony and _MJ’s_ face springing forth as a reminders that he should not make the very impulsive, very stupid decision that he plans on making without definitive proof.

But there’s a deeper feeling that motivates him, rational and the irrational bleeding together as he nods, playing it off, “Yes, I— of course. I just—“ 

He looks down, wringing his hands together once more, “we were waiting to see till— you know, till after the birth.”

He glances up to Ms. Dunne and sees a sympathetic smile on her face, handing a form over to him along with a pen.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she says sadly, Peter taking the pen from her and signing the paper without a second thought— the moment feeling significant and all too right simultaneously. 

“Thanks. Sorry for yours,” he says as he hands the paper and pen back to her, Ms. Dunne looking at him in confusion. 

“It’s— it happened to everyone, I think. I just figured…” he trails off as Ms. Dunne’s expression turns cloudy, forcing a professional smile as she nods once.

“We have to make do,” she says, moving to stand. “Now, I imagine you’d like to finally meet him?”

Peter’s heart starts beating in double time, nodding in acknowledgement as he stands.

“Right this way,” she says, Peter following behind her once more as she leads him down the hall and back to the nursery. 

“As you know, Ms. Hardy was in one of our private suites. But after everything, we moved all of the— all of them here, to keep watch,” she says grimly, Peter’s stomach churning at the realization then that of the babies still there, none of them had families waiting to take them home.

 _All except one_ , Peter thinks to himself, slowly following behind Ms. Dunne who checks the name tags of the babies before stopping— Peter looking up to her almost terrified as she moves to lean down, only for a nurse to pop her head in.

“Ms. Dunne, you have a phone call.”

“Of course I do,” she says, smiling at Peter before saying, “I’ll leave you time to get to know him. I’ll be in my office, come by and we’ll discuss what the next steps will be.”

Peter nods silently, feeling like a bobble head as Ms. Dunne leaves— the nurse walking up to him and smiling gently.

“Are you baby’s father?” She asks, Peter finally taking notice of the British accent of said nurse— jarring considering they were in a hospital in Manhattan. 

“Yep— uh yes, that’s me,” Peter says, finally looking down at the baby as his breath catches. 

It’s the smallest baby Peter thinks he’s ever seen, not that he’s been around a lot of babies in his lifetime. Pepper and Tony had always talked about kids but never followed through and when Peter met Ned in elementary school, his little sister was already out of diapers— the thought of Ned and Pepper sending a pang through his heart. 

The baby— _his son_ — jerks suddenly, making a small little hiccup sound as he moves his head around, already wriggling in a way that makes Peter wonder if this is normal for newborns or if this is proof positive that the little baby is _his_ kid with accelerated growth and strength, the nurse cooing as she looks down on him. 

“He’s got hiccups, poor thing,” the nurse says, exhausted and worn out in a way Peter can’t help but feel is familiar even if everything about this situation is anything but. 

“Yeah,” Peter says, the shock of who he’s staring at still settling his system as he stares at him in awe.

“Do you want to hold him?” She asks, Peter nodding wordlessly as she picks his son up and gently places him in his arms - the whole world falling away as he looks at the baby’s tiny face.

It’s immediately overwhelming for Peter, how small and how light this little baby is— how emotional he feels in this moment, borne from exhaustion and adrenaline and a fear so old that it shakes him at his core. Something clicks for Peter in a way things rarely do, a certainty that terrifies him even if alarm bells are still silently ringing in his ears that this can’t be real.

The baby looks… like a baby, anything he’s ever heard of parents recognizing themselves being something that Peter wonders if it’s just made up to make sure people keep having them.

But the feeling is there— a part of him wondering if he’s just scrambling for something to ground him to the world rather than to fling himself into the sky, while another, greater part of him just wonders if it’s what he needed.

“Hi,” Peter says softly, gently rocking his arms on an instinct he hadn’t realized he had, “I’m your dad.”

The baby hiccups again, his whole little body shaking from it as Peter laughs, tears springing up in his eyes that he can’t explain as the nurse takes a step back and the rest of the world fades away. 

“I’m uh, sorry I missed everything,” he says, the baby quiet save for another little hiccup, “But I’m here now.”

He rocks the baby slowly, gently, a conviction flowing through him that makes him feel as if he’s cemented to the ground— tethered to the world or maybe to this tiny little baby— as he clears his throat. The baby hiccups again, face contorting from the movement. Peter smiles as he says, “It’s okay, Ben. It’s just hiccups. You’ll be okay.”

The baby doesn’t quiet settle so much as Peter does, the name rolling off his lips and feeling _right_ as he continues, “I promise, I’ll be a good dad.”

The baby— _Ben_ — doesn’t give any acknowledgement, another hiccup that makes Peter hold him closer, rocking him gently against his chest and making the same silent promise once again. 

_I promise I’ll be a good dad_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you saw me add more chapters, no you didn’t ❤️


	3. Chapter 3

Everything within Peter wants to stay in that nursery, to hold Ben close as he hiccups and just rock him to sleep.

It’s overwhelming to Peter, how quickly he’s become attached to this tiny little baby— even if there’s whispers in the back of his mind that there’s every chance that Ben wasn’t his.

But even if he isn’t, something Peter is hard-pressed to believe that Felicia would lie about  _ this _ , there’s a stronger motivator that drives Peter - a feeling that only comes from having been an orphan himself.

Even if this tiny baby wasn’t biologically related to him at all, Ben was going to be  _ his _ . Felicia was gone to wherever the rest of them had disappeared to, Peter belatedly wondering where Tony was and if they had figured out just what the hell had happened.

There’s no telling if they have or even if they will. In the meantime, Peter makes another quiet promise out to Felicia wherever she is that no matter what— he’ll keep Ben safe. 

Ben was his now, no matter what. 

He gently lays Ben down back into the tiny bed, the nurse off at the side smiling at him as Peter looks down at him.

“Hard to take your eyes off him?” She asks kindly, Peter nodding as he lets out a sharp exhale.

“Yeah, yeah I— I don’t know I’m gonna…”

“We’ll take good care of him. You go make sure baby gets to go home with you,” she says gently but firmly, Peter taking the push for what it is only to hear a voice that he hasn’t heard in years— standing up straight as it calls out to him.

“Parker?”

Peter turns to see none other than Flash Thompson, dressed in scrubs, looking at Peter with just as much surprise as Peter feels at seeing someone he hasn’t since they were seniors in high school.

“Flash, hey. What’s— what are you doing here?” Peter asks, a sense of protectiveness flowing over him as he tightens his grip on the bed Ben is on. Not that Flash would be a threat, Peter’s never put much stock in what Flash used to tease him about when they were kids anyway.

But for  _ Flash _ of all people to find out about all this, even before May, made Peter want to redirect his attention.

Flash looks just as confused, eyes darting between the nurse and Peter as he says, “I could ask you the same question.”

“I asked you first,” Peter says as a stall tactic, Flash blinking at him once before laughing— a harried sound that makes Peter take notice of just how exhausted Flash looks. “Didn’t know you moved back to the city,” he says, Flash just nodding a few times before he gives a sad smile.

“I uh, work here. Sort of,” Flash says, motioning towards the nursery. “I’m in my first year of Columbia med. I normally do the night shift here, as a tech.”

Flash laughs again, the sound having no humor in it as he continues, “Didn’t expect to wake up to all of this.”

Peter smiles, or tries to, only for it to fall when Flash’s eyes drift from Peter to the hand that he has protectively over the bed-- taking a step forward as he asks, “So what’s up, Parker?” 

Peter debates for three seconds whether he should lie, the weight of each second passing feeling like a lifetime as Flash stares expectantly at him. Only for Peter to decide that the world’s been through enough shitty stuff today, that he has no concept of whether the world will  _ ever _ be the same again, and that maybe it was only fitting that the first person he told about this new development in his life should be the one person who has zero investment in Peter other than a casual acquaintance. 

“This is my son. Ben-- he’s, he was born today,” Peter says, his voice a lot more wobbly than he intended as Flash’s eyes widen.

“Holy shit,” Flash mutters, taking a few steps forward as his eyes drift down to the baby and then back up to Peter, almost as if asking permission. 

Peter nods, Flash taking the next few steps needed as he looks at Ben in awe-- a weird warmth that he can’t explain blossoming in his chest at seeing Flash look just as in awe and in surprise as he huffs out a laugh.

“Damn Parker, didn’t know something that good could come from you.”

Peter laughs, running a hand through his hair as the nurse quietly backs away-- seemingly sensing that Peter has the situation handled as he says, “Yeah, I-- it’s still a lot to take in.”

“Is-- I mean, did MJ…” Flash begins, Peter’s head snapping up as Flash looks at him apologetically. 

“MJ?” 

“Yeah,” Flash says carefully, looking down at the baby before looking back at Peter, “Is he--”

“No, no, no, we’re-- MJ and I are just friends,” Peter says, cheeks warming as Flash absorbs that information, “Um this is-- Ben’s mom is--  _ was _ \-- um--”

“You can spare me the details of your sad love life,” Flash says jokingly, even if Peter can sense a misdirect when he sees one, “whoever she is, did she…”

“She’s gone,” Peter says quietly, Flash looking uncomfortable for a brief second before looking back down to Ben. 

“Sorry you’re stuck with him, kid,” Flash says, making Peter laugh as Flash gently grazes his finger against the blanket wrapped around Ben-- a tender gesture that reminds Peter that for as much as he’s changed since high school, so has Flash.

Flash looks back up to Peter, a curious expression on his face as he asks, “So what’s the deal? You taking him out of here or what?”

“Or what,” Peter exhales, his shoulders sagging as he runs a hand through his hair again. “I uh, gotta figure out the paperwork.”

“Never fucking ends,” Flash says with a grin, only fo the two of them to be shushed by the nurse. “I’m on the clock now so if you need to go…” Flash trails off, Peter taking a beat to realize what Flash is offering.

“Um, man I know you have--”

“Whatever I had to do is gone to hell,” Flash making a face as he glances to where the nurse was standing, “I just came in so I didn’t have to hang out in an empty apartment alone.”

It hits Peter again, how lucky he is, vague memories of how distant Flash’s parents were in high school during any of their AcaDec events. There’s no telling if Flash has anyone still with him and even if he did, if they were concerned about him considering he chose to come into work on the one day the world had gone to hell in a handbasket.

“I mean it, Parker. Go do,” he gestures towards Peter, “whatever it is you gotta do to get home. I’ll watch out for him. Plus the nurses here aren’t half bad,” Flash says with a smile, Peter hearing the scoff of the kind nurse from before.

“Trust a tech to think they know everything,” she says with a laugh, Peter finally feeling some of the tension release in his gut as Flash and her go back and forth. 

He’s hesitant to leave, wondering how he could ever imagine letting Ben out of his sight now only for Flash to look at him expectantly.

“He’ll be okay, Parker. We got him. Go make sure you can take him home,” Flash says in a tone that’s almost kind, Peter nodding with a tight smile as he looks back down to bed. 

_ I’ll be right back _ , he thinks to himself, a flare of protectiveness rushing through him-- forcing himself to leave, even if everything within him wants to stay rooted right in that spot and to never let Ben out of his sight ever again. 

Peter gets as far as the door, making a beeline for Ms. Dunne’s office when his phone starts to buzz-- reaching for it in his pocket and seeing TONY STANK flash across the screen.

He debates sending it to voicemail for a brief second, seeing Ms. Dunne’s office within view before he thinks better of it-- part of him knowing that Tony would just push the call through anyway and another part of him wondering just what the hell happened and if Tony had any new information about it.

“Hello?”

“What’s going on with you? Why are you at NY Presbyterian?” Tony asks, his voice giving off the same tinny sound that it always did when he was flying in the suit. 

Peter glances around, confused for a moment before he sputters out, “Are you tracking me?”

“You haven’t been answering your phone,” Tony says, Peter glancing at his phone and seeing now the calls and the texts that he’s missed-- wincing at how many of them were from May as well as Tony, “And didn’t answer the question. Are you bleeding out and couldn’t make it back here? What’s going on?”

“Um it’s-- it’s kind of complicated,” Peter says as he looks over to Ms. Dunne’s office.

“Kind of-- Pete, the whole world is kind of complicated right now. Stop avoiding the question.”

He hears Tony land, the air whipping around and Peter wondering for a half-beat if he’s at the Tower, only for his stomach to churn at the idea that there wouldn’t be anyone waiting for Tony at the Tower as he finally says, “I’m not bleeding out.”

“So what gives?”

“Um…”

“If you say it’s complicated one more time…” Tony says, this time his voice sounding echo-y in a way that doesn’t make sense to Peter, almost as if he was in a stairwell.

It hits Peter later than it should,  _ why _ Tony sounds as if he’s in a stairwell— why his questions are so pointed and rushed as if the rest of the world hasn’t undergone the worst possible thing imaginable.

Peter should know better than to think Tony Stark won’t try to fix the first problem that he sees.

“Tony, I’m fine,” Peter says, eyes scanning to where the stair access would be since there’s every chance that Tony is making a beeline towards where he is right now. Peter kicks himself again for not answering, even if he was a little preoccupied— thinking that if he doesn’t act fast that the people who know about his kid before May does will go from one to two.

Only to grimace when the stairwell door opens before he can make it there, Tony stepping through and hanging up the phone as he locks eyes with Peter.

“If you were fine, you would’ve answered. If you were fine, you wouldn’t be at the hospital. Kid you can’t just—“ Tony cuts himself off, bracing his hands on his shoulders as if he was fifteen again as his eyes scan his person. “What’s going on?”

It’s a tribute to Parker luck - something he really needs to stop thinking won’t continue to bite him in the ass - when that’s the exact moment Ms. Dunne decides to step out of her office, looking relieved when she says, “Mr. Parker, there you are.”

“Mr. P— who are you?” Tony asks, bringing his hands down and looking at Ms. Dunne who looks monetarily flustered when she recognizes Tony only to shake her head and look at Peter.

“I was finally able to get through to a judge. She’s agreed to certify the paternity acknowledge, though there’s still—“

“Wait, hold up,” Tony says, taking a step towards Ms. Dunne before turning his attention to Peter. “ _ Paternity _ acknowledgement?”

“Uh—“ Peter begins, Tony letting something sounds like a strangled laugh as he shakes his head.

“No, no, this is— this is just— ma’am, I’m sure you’re doing the best you can right now but Mr. Parker here has somewhere else he needs to be and—“

“Tony, I’m not leaving.”

The words are out before he can stop them but the conviction is clear and firm— surprising himself a little with the certainty in his tone, just as Tony looks at him flabbergasted as Ms. Dunne looks completely out of her depth.

“I’m just going to be in my office,” she says kindly before stepping back the way she came-- Tony continuing as if she hadn’t said a word. 

“Kid, I don’t know if you’ve been outside but—“

“I know, I’m not—“ Peter cuts himself off, taking a deep breath, “it’s hard to explain.”

Tony seems to take a beat, Peter  _ really _ seeing him as he holds his ground. He can see the red-rimmed look in Tony’s eyes, the slight panic brimming right on the edge and the ache in his chest at how much grief he’s carrying for Pepper— something that Peter intimately understands.

But whatever plan is out there, whatever solution that the Avengers— whoever is still here— pales in comparison to Peter’s priority now.

Peter’s priority is Ben, someone that Tony doesn’t know about but must see something in his eyes to cut through the panic as he focuses in— nodding once.

“Okay,” Tony says, seemingly taking all of his strength not to break down. 

“Try me.”

* * *

“You did not think this through—“

“I did think this—“

“A baby, Peter?  _ A baby _ ?” Tony asks incredulously, Peter sighing as Tony continues, “How do you even know if—“

“Felicia wouldn’t lie about this,” Peter says, Tony staring at him in disbelief. “She wouldn’t. She— she texted to see me… before…”

Tony clicks his tongue, Peter  _ seeing  _ the gears behind his eyes run before he says, “And you don’t think it’s suspicious that you never heard anything at all about this baby before now?”

“I’m saying that it doesn’t matter if it’s suspicious or not,” Peter says, straightening up as he stares at Tony square on. “I’m not leaving Ben here.”

Tony sees the shift in Peter’s posture, studying him before taking a deep breath. If there’s one thing that’s changed over the years it’s the level of pushback that Tony gives. Not just because of age, but trust-- a recognition between the two of them, mostly Tony, that Peter knew what he could handle. 

Most of the time at least, Tony’s features softening slightly when he says, “Kid, I just want you to think this over. The whole world’s gone to shit and you-- you think you want to take in a kid--”

“I don’t think, I  _ know _ ,” Peter says stubbornly, Tony frowning as Peter continues, “As soon as the judge clears me, I’m taking him home.”

Tony looks as if he wants to argue this but in the moment chooses not to, Peter straightening his shoulders again. 

“Whatever’s going on out there, whatever you came to find me for, I want in,” Peter says, seeing the storm brewing behind Tony’s eyes, “but I gotta make sure Ben’s okay first.”

Tony’s silent for a beat, Peter thinking that he’s won only for Tony to quirk his lips to the side before he asks, “What does May think?”

Peter chews the inside of his cheek, watching as Tony’s eyebrows raise in surprise. 

“May doesn’t know?”

Peter shakes his head, Tony staring at him blankly for a second before bursting out laughing-- the kind of hysterical laughter that could only be spurned on from half the universe disappearing, from the love of his life disappearing, from the kid that he’d mentored for years now stubbornly choosing to adopt a kid. 

“Well fuck, Pete. You didn’t think we should at least start there? Your aunt’s a force of nature but even this is gonna take the wind out of her?” 

“We?” Peter asks, Tony smiling even if it doesn’t reach his eyes as he clamps a hand on his shoulder-- a certainty in Tony’s eyes that makes Peter feel at ease. 

“You think I'm gonna let you do this on your own?" Tony asks incredulously, a part of Peter wondering if this is just part of his nature-- to hold onto something tangible considering how far off the rest of the world seems as he continues, "Don't get me wrong, Pete. I don't know what the hell you're thinking but I know better than to fight you on this. Not if you're doing this without even telling May. 

Whatever the case, Peter doesn't push it when Tony clamps on the shoulder once more, pushing him towards the Ms. Dunne's office as he says, "Come on, let's deal with this judge thing and see what we can do about getting that kid to go home with you." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bet you thought you'd seen the last of me. febuwhump's over so now i can finally get back to... literally all of my other WIPs.


End file.
